Outside Help
by Ktobin
Summary: Draco Malfoy returns to Hogwarts, after Dumbledore's death, by order of Professor McGonnagal. Only one girl, whose identity is unknown to him, is on his side.
1. A Disheartening Beginning

Draco sat on the floor, alone with his head in his hands, and stared down at the floor. He was on the Hogwarts Express. He had never expected to ever be on this train again. If he had had his own way, he wouldn't be here. But he had to go back, to finish his education,

Nobody wanted to be anywhere near him. Everyone he met so far was swearing at him, ignoring him, or trying to throw him off the train. He eventually found this compartment at the back of the train. The only drawback to this compartment was that it was directly next to the one that Harry Potter and his friends were in. This meant that he could hear every word they were saying.

"I still can't believe that McGonagall wouldn't let us go!" Ron complained.

"She obviously would rather that everyone dies than let us miss a year of education."

Draco tried to shut out their conversation and he dragged himself up to the seats and began fiddling with the lock on his trunk. He was dreading the humiliation of being back at school, after everyone knew what he had done. He wondered why McGonagall wanted him back. It was probably just for her reputation. Draco lowered his head again and heard his compartment door slide open.

He lifted his head and saw a girl come in and slide the door close behind her.

"Who are you?" he asked simply.

"I can't really tell you, so I'm in disguise. But I want to help you."

"Fuck off. I don't need help. You're probably planning a way to throw me out the train like the rest of the school."

"I don't hate you."

"Prove it."

She sat next to him and put her hand on his.

"What would I be doing here if I wanted to hurt you?"

Draco snatched his hand back and stuffed it in his pocket.

"You can't help me anyway."

She stood up and turned away from him,

"At least you'll know that not everyone in the whole school hates you. I'll try to make things easier for you, if I can."

She opened the door and was about to close it again when she heard him say,

"Thank you. Whoever the hell you are."

The girl smiled and slid the door closed, leaving Draco feeling stupid. How could one girl make him possibly feel better?

He heard Harry next door state loudly,

"You were gone for ages Hermione! What happened?"

Draco felt a shiver run down his spine as her heard her laugh unconvincingly and say back,

"I bumped into Luna, and she showed me an article in the Quibbler."

Could the mysterious girl who wanted to help him really be Hermione Granger?

He shivered again.

The train was slowing and Draco heard people moving about the train, and he slid his door open.

When he stepped out into the corridor he saw Harry turn around to face him and hiss,

"You bastard! What the fuck are you doing anywhere near this school? I'll kill you!"

Hermione and Ron held him back reluctantly. Ron muttered in his ear, just loudly enough for Draco to hear,

"He's not worth you getting in Azkaban for Harry."

"They'd probably thank me for killing him."

But he turned away and left Draco feeling tired, and wondering how many times he would have to endure this sort of abuse.

He waited at the end of the corridor until most of the students had left, and then he exited the train alone. There was only one Threstal carriage left, and someone was helping someone up into it. He ran to it and clambered on before checking who was in it.

Draco suddenly found himself in the worst carriage he could be in. Worse than with Harry and his friends. He was with Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini.

"Fancy meeting you here Draco." said Blaise sarcastically.

"What a pleasure." said Pansy in a similar tone.

They both smiled rather scarily at him, until Draco found himself tempted to jump out of the carriage and do the school a favour by breaking a few bones. But he held his ground and quirked an eyebrow at them.

"It is such a coincidence isn't it?" he asked coolly.

"Well, we noticed that you weren't present, so we rather fancied waiting for you, didn't we Pansy?"

"Yes we did."

Draco thought he heard carriages screeching to a halt not far from them, so he prepared to leave them.

"How kind of you. We appear to have arrived, so I'll be leaving you now."

"But Draco, we're in the same house aren't we? Why don't you stay and sit with us?"

They were all exiting the carriage now, and after Draco stepped out he naturally turned to help Pansy out.

"Thank you Draco."

He cursed himself internally for succumbing to his natural habits and said nothing out loud, in replacement of his usual, "My pleasure Parknison."

After they entered the castle with the rest of the school Professor Slughorn's eyes were searching the crowd for someone. When his eyes finally rested on Draco, he understood that he wouldn't be able to enter with everyone else.

He slipped away from Blaise and Pansy expertly and found himself in front of his new Head of Year.

"Mr. Malfoy. May I have quick word with you before the feast?"

"Of course Professor."

"You obviously understand that most of the school is rather…against you at the current moment?"

"Yes sir."

"So you won't be doing anything in particular to draw too much unnecessary attention to yourself will you m'boy?"

"No sir."

"That's about it. Thank you."

"Should I go in now sir?"

"Yes. I suppose so."

Draco never hated Slughorn as much as he did now.

"Wouldn't that attract too much unnecessary attention sir?"

"I shouldn't expect so. Enjoy your meal."

Then before Draco could argue, he turned and left for his office.

So Draco was left to enter a hall of students and teachers who all hated him. Except one. Who was probably Granger. He creaked the giant doors open and stepped in.

The whole school turned to stare at the latecomer, and as soon as they recognised him, they began whispering and glaring at him. There was not a single friendly face in the hall. Not even at his own house. There was no sign of a single face that may 'want to help'. Granger was turning up her nose at him.

Despite all this, Draco Malfoy found the pride within him to walk over to the Slytherin table with his head up high, and sit down at the end. Across from Crabbe and next to Goyle. There was a silence, in which McGonagall tried to get the school's attention back. But there whispers got louder until he heard snippets from all over the hall.

"Bloody murderer…"

"What a stuck-up bastard."

"How could he insult us all by coming back?"

"Such a typical Slytherin!"

"I knew he was dodgy."

He felt like leaving. He wanted to shout at them all. To make them listen to his side of the story. But he knew he had to keep his head down. Out of the fog of abuse he miraculously heard a quiet golden whisper of,

"_He's innocent."_

It was as if the whole hall had heard it, they went silent. It was so subtle that Draco found himself already wondering about whether he had imagined it.

Draco was in a rather awkward situation. He could choose not to say anything to his old friends, who weren't making any effort to notice him after his mistreatment of them last year, or he could apologize. Draco didn't really think he was able to make any kind of excuse for his behaviour, or think of any way it would help his situation, to have Crabbe and Goyle back on his side. He found his eyes darting around the hall, searching for a friendly face, the person who would be watching out for him, but he didn't spot anyone being openly watchful.

He didn't eat much, which wasn't too strange, as he never ate too much of the food at Hogwarts ("Nothing like the stuff at home!" he used to boast) but he couldn't really complain now. He was never going to get to eat at Malfoy Manor ever again. He shuddered as this thought sunk into him and the food he had just eaten made him feel sick. He put down his fork quietly and waited for the queasy feeling to fade away, but it was simply replaced by a sudden pain in his forearm.

His Dark Mark was burning.

He tried to resist clutching it in such a public place, but he felt a few eyes observing the obvious look of pain he was displaying. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe in and out slowly; like his mother had taught him to. It calmed him down and blocked out the other sounds in the hall, but then he heard a voice hissing in his ear,

"_You're dead Malfoy." _

Draco opened his eyes and looked around, but nobody was there. This had gained him a few more glares from his fellow Slytherins, but they were probably going to glare at him whatever he did.

He looked back down at his unfinished potato and decided to try and eat a bit more. He knew from recent experiences that he would probably miss breakfast. McGonagall stood up and the hall fell silent again as she spoke,

"I hope you've all eaten enough, and are ready for bed. Off you go!"

He was one of the first people out of the hall. The quick stride down to the dungeons was tiring after the emotional strain from the evening and Draco wasn't looking forward to the next day's lessons. Once he had reached his own dorm, he pulled up his sleeve to check his Mark and wondered whether he was required to attend meetings while at school. And whether he wanted to go.

Footsteps were hurrying up the stairs so Draco shoved his sleeve down roughly before the door burst open to reveal Blaise. Nott, Crabbe and Goyle – his roommates.

"Draco. Why are you running from us? We're on your side." Nott's weak voice strained to say.

"No you aren't."

Blaise's eyes flashed dangerously and he grabbed the collar of Draco's robes,

"Which side are you on then _Malfoy_?"

Draco pretended to think over this and hissed,

"My own side." He ripped Blaise's hand away and muttered in disgust, "So don't touch me _Zabini._"

Crabbe and Goyle wondered why they were being hostile to each other and Nott nudged them in the ribs before either of them could utter a word. He thought up a quick getaway,

"W-we're going to go check up on your First Year cousin Blaise, a-are you coming?" he stuttered nervously. Blaise glared at Draco and said viciously,

"Why would I want to hang around with a ferret anyway? Come on."

They swept out the room and Draco let out a sigh of relief as the door slammed shut.


	2. Draco's Dark Thoughts

The next morning Draco awakened early, before the sun had risen. He had that dream again, the one in which he relived that fateful day, the day Dumbledore had died. He refused to let himself imagine what might have happened if he had been brave enough...to accept that withered black hand that had reached out to him. There was no way that old man could have protected him from the Death Eaters who had come, moments later, the ones who had killed him. No, Draco hadn't killed the old man, but his forced flight from the school had obviously cast the suspicion on him. Harry's word finally reigned superior to the son of a Death Eater's, which was as it probably should have always been, he thought bitterly.

Draco looked around at the snoring boys around him with a hint of sadness. They had been his closest friends for six years and yet, they had been torn apart by Lord Voldemort's war. He couldn't help but wish it had been different, that they could somehow remain together, despite their differences. Yet he knew that the only way he could remain seperate from either side was to cast himself into solitude. There was no other way to protect them. If they were seen to be on his side, their father's would punish them. Draco had met Blaise's latest step-father at the last Death Eater meet he had been to, and the impression that the cruel looking man had left remained with him to this day. Blaise didn't need such a man troubling him. The tall pale boy sighed inaudibly and pulled his robes on, before leaving the room. All of the dungeon corridors were empty, but Draco was drawn upstairs and to the Entrance Hall, the room furthest away from any of the dozing students. He spot a House Elf scurrying out of the Great Hall with several large buckets and he forced back his usual feelings of revulsion. He was not a Malfoy any longer. Feeling ridiculous, he dragged himself forward, towards the small creature with the closest he had to a friendly smile - which was unfortunately his malicious grin. Horrified, it disappeared with a loud CRACK before he could say a word, leaving the buckets behind.

He sighed. There was no hope. His reputation for cruelty was certainly coming back to sting him harshly. Not even those disgustin- no, not even the Hogwarts House Elves would offer him a friendly word. How could he hope that anyone would want to talk to such a disgusting person as he? Dumbledore's murderer...sometimes he felt as though he really was the one who had hissed that spell at the helpless man, not Severus. His dreams certainly showed this, as he felt his own mouth shouting those cursed words, and the horrible flash of green light. He shook his head. How dare he impose his company on anyone? 


End file.
